


All of my days

by sg_fic



Category: Real Steel (2011), Sex Drive (2008)
Genre: Crossover Pairings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 02:47:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3633831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sg_fic/pseuds/sg_fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Homophobic and frustrated, Rex embarks on a road trip of his own. Takes place after Sex Drive (and therefore about ten years before the events in Real Steel). Based on the interaction between movie-verse Scott/Logan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All of my days

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers to the painfully underrated Sex Drive (as well as one scene I nicked from The River because yum). A million thanks to bostongirl2003 for her beta work!

 

 

 

 

**All of my days**

 

 _“Well I have been searching all of my days_  
_All of my days_  
_Many a road, you know_  
_I've been walking on_  
_All of my days_  
_And I've been trying to find_  
_What's been in my mind_  
_As the days keep turning into night.”_

 

Rex slammed his fist against the panel and the radio silenced abruptly. Raising a hand on his baby spoke volumes of just how lousy he felt. Absentmindedly he caressed the insulted panel.

God, he loved the Judge.

Buying a 1969 Pontiac GTO was the wisest decision he’d ever made. It was definitely worth still living at home with his dad, step mom, little bro and that homo ball-bag Ian. But sometimes… Sometimes he wondered if it was normal to love a car so damn much. If maybe the Judge was the reason he couldn’t love anyone else.      

But that wasn’t entirely true; he loved his dad and Karen wasn’t too bad… Dylan was golden, he loved that boy. And Ian…

 _“Fucking homo!”_ Rex found himself swearing out loud.

Not that it was any of his business.  Why should he care if the little ‘cockspert’ wanted to take it in the chili ring? It was just…

Just why couldn’t Ian fucking say it? Say _‘yeah I like cock’_?

Cause he’s a fucking gay coward, that’s why!

 _“Fuck!”_ he punched the steering wheel only to wince and curse again, then caress it in regret. He wasn’t buying Ian’s ‘look at me—I’m straight’ shit. He didn’t believe for a second that Ian stole his car just to bang some chick. He wasn’t buying the girlfriend bit neither. Going for a Goth childhood friend that was taller and bigger than him. _Nice going homo. What do you call her in bed? Steve? Or maybe just ‘beard’?_

If Ian would have just gone out and said it, admitted that he wanted to suck cock, that he was day dreaming about riding a hard, thick one—then maybe Rex wouldn’t hate him as much. But if there was one thing Rex Lafferty couldn’t stand it was cowards. And his brother Ian? A fucking coward.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

He ogled the orange juice but left it on the shelf with a pang. He was dead thirsty, but he’d die before walking out of a 7/11 with something as gay as a Sunny D. Instead he filled his basket with a six pack of beer, beef jerky, cigarettes and a pack of condoms. A straight basket, like God intended. Feeling proud, Rex punched the empty air in front of him while waiting in the queue for the tills. In his mind he was beating Schwarzenegger while hundreds of hot chicks cheered and rooted for him. The _old_ Schwarzenegger, in his terminator days—before he decided that he liked sucking cock and became the homo governor of the gayest place on earth. _Take that! And that!_ Rex delivered a front punch then an uppercut, sending Schwarzy to the floor. The girls were ecstatic, going completely berserk, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to bang each and every one—

“What are you doing there, fag?”

And Rex’s wide grin immediately turned into a frown,

“What did you call me?!” He turned to the guy who was in front of him in line. The 6’2” redneck was not impressed.

“A fag.” The man intoned. “Or is that offensive for homos? Do you prefer faggot? Fag-sexual?”

“The fuck!” Rex approached him with a well-practiced combo; **_uppercut-front punch-lower cut-block!!!_**

Heaving, Rex stopped inches from the man’s face.

The man didn’t blink. In fact, his grin got wider and wider until he was laughing out loud. “Did it hurt when they surgically removed your balls?” He paid the cashier for his single bottle of Jack Daniels and left, not before shouting “HOMO!” at Rex’s direction.

“Yeah, run you LOSER!” Rex shouted back as the doors closed behind the man.

He looked down at the cashier and the smile wiped off his face for the second time that day. She looked up at him with pity and scorn. She even rolled her eyes at him!

She acted nothing at all like the girls who saw him defeat Schwarzy.

Instead, she scanned his few items then monotonously read “Twenty-nine, ninety-nine.”

Rex paid her cash with the bitterest taste in his mouth. Suddenly his shopping basket didn’t look all that manly. Those fucking condoms—that must be it. Homos use condoms. Real men fuck, let the chick deal with protection.   

He reached out for the change (one cent, how gay), and stuffed his groceries into a fucking gay paper bag. The fucking environment! Now he had to carry his shit in brown paper bags like some sixty year old virgin homo.  

Like Ian used to be before he started banging Felicia.

 _“Fuck!”_ The thought pissed him off so much as he carried his gay bag out of the cool store and into the hot August air.

 _Fuck…_ he saw some girls standing by the vending machines. A fuck. That’s what he needed. That’s what real men did when they had a shitty day.

“Hello, ladies!”

The three of them looked up, still giggling from whatever they were talking about.

 _Looking better already._ Much more like the admiring girls in his day dream.

“See that gorgeous red parked out front? That beaute is my baby. Now how about a ride in the judge?” _To my home. Where I will bang all three of you._

“Judge?”

“That’s my baby’s name.”

“Hmm,” they were giggling again, exchanging glances before deciding, “yeah, sure, like why not?”

But as they all started walking towards the car, Rex’s victory smile crumbled.

“Told you that gay men are the nicest!”

He froze and the three girls stopped walking.

Rex couldn’t use one of his fighting combos on the girls and so he had to close his eyes and take a deep, cleansing breath. He opened his eyes but he was still seeing red.

“How about you three lesbos go take the fucking bus?” Furious, he managed to say.

 _“What?!”_ The girls exchanged angry glances before heading back to the vending machines.

 _“Rude!”_ One of them said as she passed Rex, making a point to forcefully step on his toes.

“Go lick carpets!” He just barely bit down a yelp of pain.

Limping back to his beloved GTO did nothing to improve his mood. Some cocksucker put a flyer under his baby’s windshield wiper.

 _I will kill the motherfucker!_ But as he reached out for the flyer—

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------

The grocery bag was forgotten in the passenger seat. It’s been over twenty minutes but Rex didn’t gun the engine. Didn’t even turn on the air-con.

He was still staring dumbly at the flyer, lost in thought.

_“BATTLE BOTS—LIVE ROBOT BATTELS! WHO WILL BE THE NEW TWIN CITIES CHAMPION?”_

It read, and Rex couldn’t think of a manlier thing to do. Huge ass robots fighting to death. A men’s sport. He’s been dying to go to the Twin Cities championship ever since he was a teen! Why they chose gay California was beyond him, but if Ian could drive to Tennessee for some fat, old dude he met online to ram him in the tailpipe—then Rex can drive to California for some wrestling.

…couldn’t he? It was a two days journey, but the drive could do him good. Help him get over those girls…

On an impulse, he left the car and went back into the store. He bought a single bottle of Jack Daniels and asked for a three hundred dollar cash back. Satisfied with his now manly shopping basket and manly change he left the store.

He was hitting the road.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“So?”

“…So what?”

“C’mon Ian... So how do you conclude your first month as a non-virgin?”

“Lance! I don’t want to talk about it. Besides, a gentleman never tells.”

“Oh. Good thing Felicia won’t shut up about it. I believe I deserve to know after all of my hard work.”

“Shut up!  …so… so like, what did she say?”

“A gentleman never tells.”

Ian was about to elbow his best friend when they arrived at the driveway. It was still empty. The garage was empty too.

“I feel kinda bad.”

“You can’t be serious. After he threw firecrackers into your bed on your first time? Dude, you’ve waited eighteen years to get it going with Felicia. What we’re doing is hardly enough.”

“He is going to kill me when he gets back.”

“—if he gets back.”

“Oh my God Lance, take that back! He’s still my brother.”

“So do you want to hear what she calls little Ian or what?” Lance changes the subject, and suddenly his older brother was the last thing on his mind.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was setting. Rex was sitting in McDonald’s, his tray covered in dirty napkins and empty wrappers. He was hoping to make it as far as Utah that day, but had to stop in Colorado too tired to go on. Still, not too bad. He checked into a manly motel near a gas station, where lots of trucks were parked, and sought a manly dinner. He had to settle for McDonald’s but at least it was meat, not some gay vegan shit.  

A girl came by to collect his tray and Rex watched her walking away. It brought him back to the present. To Ian getting some booty. Why did it upset him so fucking much?

He hated all of that soul searching shit, it wasn’t something real men did, but Ian having a girlfriend was just too upsetting. He couldn’t go on with his life. He had to try and understand it.

He suspected that part of the reason he embarked on this journey was because he needed some time off. Nothing felt the same since Ian stole his car and came back with a girlfriend.

So… So maybe he was jealous? He didn’t find Felicia attractive at all, and he truly believed she was Ian’s beard, even if Ian himself didn’t know it just yet. What’s there to be jealous of?

Maybe because he didn’t have sex in so long?

_Damn it!_

This was his least favorite topic, and he managed to suppress it just fine until his faggot brother started getting laid!

But Ian ruined that by fucking Felicia, and all kinds of memories started to surface. Melanie and Ann and Jen…

Melanie was his first. Not exactly his high school sweetheart but he took her to the prom. They did it in the back of his parents’ car, with her skirt up and his trousers pushed down. It felt great at first, but about two minutes into it he was beginning to… lose interest.

It started when the sweet smell of her corsage tickled his nose, distracting him, then the condom felt wrong. Too short or too thick or too restricting, and before he knew it his cock was beginning to soften, betraying him for the first time.

Too scared to admit what’s happening, he faked an orgasm; gasped loudly then pressed hard against her making sure to get rid of the condom when she wasn’t looking.

Eventually he blamed the car. There was nothing sexy about a Chevy Camaro. No one should get laid in that.

He driven her home and never returned any her calls.

Shortly after he bought the Judge.

He tried twice since. He nearly came with Ann, but just as he was about to cross the edge she began moaning in pleasure, the sound distracting him; reminding him of his first attempt and before he know it he was faking again.

He actually made it with Jenifer, but only because she chose to silently suck his cock. He could finally close his eyes and let his imagination run wild. _Wrestling._ Ever since he was a little boy he jerked off to the same fantasy. He was fighting a massive wrestler, and he was winning. Be that the latest action hero to decorate the walls of his room or some big shut from the WWF. The faces changed but the fantasy always remained. He was fighting and winning.

He managed to come in her mouth, but because he had to be so careful not to slip, to constantly concentrate on his fighting fantasy, the whole ordeal felt more tiresome than fun.

He didn’t try since, not until today. He was hoping some girl on girl action would get him going when he approached the three girls, but then they called him… _fuck_.

He couldn’t stand it.

The man at the supermarket, the girls, even his fag brother had all called him gay;

_“What do you like better the shaft or the balls?”_

_“That’s gross. I don’t know why you’re talking about it.”_

_“Can’t choose, can ya? That’s a tough one. You love it, don’t ya? You’re obsessed with it!”_

_“No, you are. You keep talking about it.”_

In return Rex threatened to _‘knock him off the goddamned earth’_ and Ian fell silent, but the insult still burnt.

He loved women. He didn’t question that for a second. He just needed to find the really hot ones, the ones that make you fall in love. He was reminded of earlier that day when he wondered why he couldn’t love anyone the way he did his GTO. Then he thought of that nasty cashier and the feather-brained girls outside the 7/11…

Seemed that Californian girls were just what the doctor prescribed.

More certain than ever that he made the right choice, Rex got up and headed back to the motel.  

\------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ian? Have you seen your brother?” Karol was shouting from the living room.

“Dylan is sleeping over at Becca’s” Ian couldn’t help some bitterness from creeping into his voice over his hot co-worker dating his 14 year old baby brother.

He heard Karol going up the stairs and prayed to God that he wouldn’t find a creative way of embarrassing both her and himself this time around. He was a little surprised to see his dad walking into the room, too.

“No, we meant Rex. He didn’t come home and it’s almost midnight. He won’t answer his phone.”

“He’s at Jen’s.” Ian blurred out the first thing that came to mind. “So he must have his hands full” he made a nervous gesture to convey that and only after seeing Karen’s mortified expression he looked down at his hands.

It looked like he was fondling two imaginary boobs.

His hands immediately dropped to his sides.

“Okay… okay, good.” Karen stuttered and ended the awkward silence. His dad gave him a long, disappointed look before adding;

“I just wish that boy would give us a call and let us know every now and then.” They left the room and Ian heard him go on. “Can’t really blame him, though. Such a stud. What? He’s a heart breaker!”

And Ian rolled his eyes.

Real concern filled him then. Was Rex really that dumb? They went out of their way to make it just the right amount of obvious! And he grabbed his phone and dialed Lance’s number.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

The world was pitch dark when he left the motel. He checked out at four AM and briefly considered filling the tank, but the championship was starting at seven and too eager to get a head start he decided he’d fill it in Nevada. It would be cheaper, too.

By the time he began crossing Nevada the sky became dark blue. First rays of light streamed through purple rifts in the clouds. Wind turbines were spinning lazily on the rocky desert mountains and horses roamed freely in the valley below. He cracked the window open enjoying the cool breeze and the fresh morning air. It was nice getting out of the city.

He missed a call from his dad while he slept but he wasn’t in the mood to call back, he needed space, both literally and figuratively.

Every once in a while he thought of how nice it would be to finally leave home. Some days he’d even drive the Judge to the city’s outskirts and spend the night in his car, telling his folks that he spent it at Jen’s (they needn’t know that she moved to Paris to study art shortly after they’ve met). But hey, with the money the Judge cost him he could have moved out years ago, so it seemed only fitting that he’d sleep in it when home felt too crowded.  

When he finally crossed the border to California, rocky mountains were replaced by ripe fields of wheat, extending as far as the eye could see. The sky above him were deep blue and completely clear of clouds. So close, but he had to drive to San Leandro which was practically on the Pacific Ocean shores. It was going to be a long day.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re out of your mind!”

“Ian. Relax. Did I ever let you down?”

“Rex is going to kill you!”

“Rex won’t touch me. Look, I’m already here, my dad dragged me to this boring convention in San Fran and with Mary away I can’t even score. I’ll drive to San Leandro and have a word with you brother. Worst case scenario he will go berserk and I can call you and give you heads up. At least you will know he’s alive and kicking instead of having your panties in a bounce.”

“You sure about this?”

“Sure I’m sure.”

“Thanks Lance.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------

It was dark when he started driving and it was dark when he finished. The address on the flyer had led him to a county funfair. He circled it slowly looking for the parking lot, its colorful lights reflecting off his windshields.

He parked and for a minute just stared out his window at the Ferris wheel slowly turning, feeling strangely tired and calm. He had to shake himself out of it.

The warm air outside his car smelt sweet. He inhaled deeply… candy floss and caramel apples. Against his will a silly smile began spreading across his face. Man, he loved wrestling! As a young boy, nothing made sense. Why did he have to go to school? Why were the other kids so mean? It was beyond him.

Then he discovered wrestling and action movies—where the good guys saved the day and the bad guys paid for their actions, and the world finally began making sense.

He would take a beating and imagine his favorite WWF stars teaching those bullies a lesson.

He’d come home feeling lonely, switch on the TV, and his favorite action heroes would keep him company.

He’d fantasize about wrestling when touching himself, and it help him get through that one time with Jen…

Wrestling helped when nothing made sense, and right now nothing did.

And wrestling robots? He was so excited he could almost taste it!

\------------------------------------------------------------------

 _Tickets/Tokens/Raffle Tickets_ The lit sign read and Rex made a beeline to it. If he suspected anything his mind was yet to register it.

“How can I help you?” A round cashier asked. He was in the middle of a conversation and both men looked at Rex impatiently. But that made sense. It was eight o’clock and the two men were not expecting late arrivals to the best and most important wrestling show in the west coast. He should have left the motel earlier.

“I’m here for the Twin Cities championship.”

“Are ya?” The man arched his eyebrows and… giggled?

“Yeah, the robot boxing.” Rex handed the man his flyer. Was the show sold out? He’d pay double if needed!

“Hey, Tommy! Look at that—” He called the other man and there was no mistake now; they were laughing at him.

“What’s so funny? Is the show sold out?”

“This is some donut coupon you—” but remembering he was on the clock the man bit his lips, sparing Rex the insult. “The Twin Cities match started an hour ago… in Dallas.”   

“…Dallas?!” As in Dallas Texas? As in the place he drove by _twenty hours_ ago?

“Give me that!” Rex snatched the flyer back.

He didn’t pay the bottom of the flyer any attention before, but he saw it now. _“Wanna fight like a bot? Fuel on Senor Donut! Buy one get one half price!”_

Senor Donut, Ian’s lame summer job… His vision began blurring around the edges as he read the small print… _‘15% discount to the 2001 annual Twin Cities championship in San Leandro upon presenting this coupon, subject to availability’_

 _2001…_ his faggot brother had stuck a ten year old flyer under his wipes. The 2010 championship was taking place in Dallas, a mere ten hour drive from Chicago.

Rex was so disappointed that he couldn’t even get angry. He was on the verge of tears. Tonight was supposed to be a life changing event.

“Oh my God, are you gonna cry?” The cashier was laughing again. Rex was about to punch him in the face when the man said “Tell you what; there’s this guy who drove into town a couple of weeks ago, his bot has been fighting bulls every evening in our country fair, and tonight is his last show. The fight started about half an hour ago but I’m gonna let you in free of charge, maybe you can still catch the end.”

“…Right. ‘kay.” Rex was still biting his lips to stop him from crying in frustration as his feet began moving on their own accord.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking towards the fighting ring, Rex couldn’t believe his own stupidity; although very colorful and bright, the funfair was tiny. He counted four scary rides, and the rest were either toddlers’ rides or side stalls featuring different games, their shelves packed with stuffed animals. This place could barely hold a karaoke night, let alone the States’ fighting bots championship.

 _…Idiot!_ Out of utter stupidity he drove for thirty hours and barely slept for… for this.

He was approaching the ring, and at the sound of the crowds cheering hastened his steps, hoping to at least see a bot in action that night.

\-------

_“AND AMBUSH LAY THE SMACKDOWN ON THAT PRIME BEEF!!!”_

The crowds roared with joy and frustrated, Rex tried finding the entrance. It was clear that the fight was reaching its climax but he couldn’t find a damn entrance to the ring!

_There!_

He found two boards that were just far enough apart and, although it was clearly not the entrance, had pulled them further apart and snuck in. He was looking back the whole time, making sure that no one saw him, and as he turned around—

_—WOOSH—_

Oh, God!

A tall, built man stood there, ‘fighting’ the empty air in front of him. His fist missed Rex’s face by a mere inch.

 _“WATCH IT WILL YA!”_ The man barked, never stopping his routine, his eyes fixed on the ring.

Startled, Rex quickly stepped back. _What the hell?_

 _Mad Max!_ It suddenly struck him and his blue eyes grew very wide; the wrestler standing in front of him had looked just like his all-time favorite action hero!

 _He’s the operator_ … Rex’s mind finally registered. In his periphery vision he could see the bot, as big as a damn house, mirroring the man’s moves. He could hear the metallic hiss of the robot’s joints and the crowd cheering in utter ecstasy… yet as exciting as it all sounded, he couldn’t take his eyes off of the man.

Going for a southern look, the wrestler wore dark jeans, a sleeveless buttoned shirt and a tie—he looked like a modern-day cowboy. What was even cooler was his fighting style—it reminded him that of Steve Austin… he even had his ear pierced at the same place! Rex was dying to get a second piercing for ages; he found it sexy as hell.

_Right-left-uppercut_

Angry, determined and dripping sweat; the wrestler was the coolest guy Rex had ever seen. He would sure like to—

_“UNBELIEVEABLE!”_

All around him people rose to their feet and Rex turned in time to see the bull pinned under the massive, silvery monster of a robot.

_God damn it!_

The show was over.

“Ladies and gentlemen let’s hear it for our warriors out here tonight, in the 2010 San Leandro county fair! Now thank you all for coming out, and we’ll see you next time, cause there will be one!’

Rex quickly turned back to the man, but he was gone, just like that. He couldn’t see him anywhere! He tried making his way towards the battle bot, but too many people were pushing and shoving trying to have their picture taken with it, and before he knew it the robot was leaving the ring, the funfair workers closing and locking the gates behind it.

People were beginning to leave then, and about five minutes later Rex stood there all alone, tears of rage blurring his vison.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

_‘Hey donut boy! Did you catch the show?’_

_‘Not really. Do you know where can I find the guy?’_

_‘What guy? The wrestler? His name is Charles Kenton, he’s staying in his trailer but he’ll be gone by tomorrow if you ask me. Those carny guys are always on run, probably avoiding the collectors. This one charges five bucks for a picture with the bot, so I don’t want to know the size of his overdraft!’_

The conversation played over and over in Rex’s head as he sat in his car watching the Ferris wheel slowly turn. When the guy at the cashier said ‘trailer’ he pointed at a massive truck, and Rex had every intention of visiting the wrestler and taking a closer look at his bot, as soon as he was done drinking. He reached for his Jack Daniels, the bottle already half empty.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

The San Francisco bay area was lovely at day time, but freezing cold and windy at night. His leather jacket did nothing for him. He knocked on the back of the truck once, twice…

He put his ear to the metal but couldn't hear a damn thing.

Just his luck! The guy must be celebrating his last night in town at some local bar. The stinking road trip had been one big mistake!

Deciding he should leave, Rex turned around and nearly crashed into Charles Kenton for the second time that day.

“Can I help you?” the wrestler asked sharply, the warning in his voice loud and clear. He was carrying two brown paper bags full of groceries and even that looked cool. The wrestler was so damn cool.

“They said I could take a picture with your bot? For five dollars?”

Rex couldn’t help sounding a little drunk nor conceal his flushed cheeks, and he could just see the wheels in Charles Kenton’s head turning as he was trying to decide whether he should let him in.

“Ten dollars.” He finally said as he pressed the remote and the back door began to slowly roll up.

The man must have been really desperate for money.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Slightly wobbly, Rex climbed the short ladder.

The wrestler switched on the lights and a warm glow lit the long, narrow space. Rex froze, surprised by how homey the truck was inside.

“You’re letting the chill in.” The rugged man said impatiently and Rex hastened his pace. He climbed inside, then just stood there and stared in awe.

He was in the living room, such as it was. It contained a double sofa and a TV set. Nothing fancy, just functional. Manly. _So cool._

Next was the kitchen which served as both the dining room and the bedroom. Opposite the hob and stove was a neatly made out bed. _Army style_ Rex concluded, loving what he saw. Next to it was a table and two chairs. Did the guy have a girlfriend? _I bet she’s a model._

Curious, Rex tried sneaking a glance to a small pile of letters on the table to see who the recipient was.

All he could see were bills and execution letters.

The wrestler cleared his throat impatiently and Rex jumped. It was only then that he noticed the man closed the door behind them. _Better not cross him._

He shifted his gaze to the end of the truck which seemed to have served as a small garage. It contained tools, spare tires, oil tins and of course Ambush, the man’s bot.

“Nice!” Rex concluded. The truck was just as cool as its owner.

“…very.” The man finally said, his voice a little hoarse.

Rex turned to the man, only to find that while he was checking out his truck, the man was inspecting him, just as intently.

His eyes were the brightest shade of brown Rex had ever seen. _Like honey…_

And his hair looked so soft…

Rex realized that he was staring.

“So, um… You’re Charles Kenton, right?”

“I’m Charlie, yeah. And you’re the guy who snuck into my show today. I nearly broke your nose.”

“I’m him. I mean—I’m Rex. I’m Rex from Chicago.” _Damn_ he was drunk.

A sexy little grin tugged the corners of Charlie’s mouth. “Okay Rex from Chicago,” he was moving closer, towering Rex with his wicked smile and warm hazel eyes “that would be ten bucks for the photo and another ten for crashing into my show.”

Rex licked his suddenly dry lips. _“Okay…”_ The wrestler’s lips looked incredibly soft. Strong chin. Thick neck. Broad shoulders and chest. A narrow waist and strong muscular legs. The man was built like a superhero. Lowering his eyes it was easy to tell the man was well-endowed.

“That’s gonna cost ya more than twenty bucks.” Charlie followed his gaze, bemused.

“I got money.” The words left his mouth on their own accord.

“Oh.” Charlie’s brown eyes darkened.

“I got… two hundred dollars…” Rex struggled to pull out his wallet from his back pocket “…right here.” And he handed Charlie the two bills, not entirely sure what was he buying. Not entirely sure that he wanted to know.

The man took the money then gave Rex a long, hard look.

“…but… but I don’t have another twenty for the picture and the—” Rex stuttered, his face burning up, “—the… the… your show.”

Charlie arched his eyebrows and smiled the most seductive smile. He was so close… so tall…

All Rex could do was gulp. The wrestler sent a hand into the back pocket of Rex’s jeans. It felt incredibly hot against his cold buttock. He used his hold to tug Rex closer, giving his butt a firm squeeze.

“Is that what you want?” With his free hand he cupped Rex’s cock and balls through his jeans. “Is that why you came here?”

The young man closed his eyes and bit his lips to keep from moaning.

“…Chicago?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

Charlie was stroking Rex’s hardening cock with his thumb, and gently massaging his balls with his fingertips.

“Don’t do that thing.”

“No... You like that thing.”

“No I don’t.”

Smiling knowingly Charlie moved closer, invading his personal space _“…I don’t believe you.”_ he rasped before licking his ear and giving his ass another firm squeeze.

Rex yelped, certain he would come in his pants, but Charlie released him just in time.

He was panting loudly, watching, drunk and fascinated as Charlie sunk to his knees and began undoing his belt.

_It’s just a blow job. This is America, guys blow other guys all time and it doesn’t make them gay, God damn it. Besides, I paid two-fucking-hundred dollars for this. It will be gay if I don’t get every penny’s worth! Yeah. That’s what would be fucking gay—_

_“—Ahh—”_

Charlie took him in without warning, cupping his balls in one hand and the base of his cock with the other.

Rex closed his eyes. He knew the drill. He needed to think of wrestling… but found that he couldn’t think at all. He could barely breathe. Could barely stand.

He opened his eyes, turned on beyond words at the sight of Charlie sucking his cock, working his length with his hands and tongue.

 _Think of wrestling! Think of wrestling or you’re gonna mess it up!_ He closed his eyes again trying to summon the mental image. That was when Charlie began deep throating him and his eyes flew wide open. His hands were sent to the other man’s head on their own accord.

Charlie’s short hair was even softer than it looked, the sensation overwhelming him until—

_“I’m coming—”_

The man gave his balls a gentle yet firm tug and Rex spent a short eternity crossing the edge, shouting with pleasure at what felt like the first real orgasm he was about to have.

When it became almost painful the man released his sacks, ending the sweet torture, and Rex came in his mouth with a shout. Charlie squeezed his buttocks, _hard_ , and Rex shouted, shuddered, clawed at the wrestler’s shoulders and gasped for air until throat was raw.

Charlie released him and Rex sank to his knees, struggling to catch his breath.

When he looked up he saw the wrestler sitting by the table, lost in thoughts.

“Hey Chicago? Do you still want that picture?”

“I… I don’t have any more… cash on me...” Rex said, still panting.

“Okay. Then I’ll walk you to the door.”

Deciding that no matter how badly he wanted to, asking to spend the night would be gay—Rex got dressed and followed the wrestler to the door, his heart sinking with each step.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

The cold had a sobering effect on him. Still sweaty and poorly dressed, Rex was shuddering fiercely, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. He hugged himself as he made his way to the GTO.

When his eyes adjusted to the darkness he began noticing men were sitting on the sideways and outside the many trailers, smoking and drinking, their eyes following him with interest.

Only once he sat inside the locked GTO he began feeling safe again.  

He rested his head against the steering wheel.

It all happened so fast once he arrived at Charlie’s and before he knew it he paid for sex… with a guy. And he came… so fast and so… _hard_. How could it be? Was alcohol the answer all along? Did he drink on his prom night? He couldn’t remember…

 _‘Is that why you came here?’_ Charlie asked him and Rex wasn’t sure. He came for the bot, but also… also, the man looked just like Mad Max and fought just like Steve Austin and… and…

And a blowjob doesn’t make you gay.

Feeling very tired and sad, Rex briefly considered going back to Charlie’s and asking to spend the night. He didn’t feel safe spending it in the GTO with all of those men out there.

The thought of the homely truck was comforting, but he knew the man would ask for more money and he got nothing left.

Reluctantly he gunned the engine and began driving out of the lot and around the fair the way he came.

His eyes glued to Charlie’s truck as he drove past it and his mind wandered back to the Sunny D he left on the shelf the other day.

The many Sunny Ds he didn’t buy over the years.

Tears blurred his vision and he had to bring the judge to a stop.

Crossing his arms on the steering wheel and resting his forehead against them, Rex tried practicing old breathing exercises that helped him as a teen. But it was too late. Something old and ugly began gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Self-hatred and loneliness he never really addressed… insult from the incident at the 7/11… insult from being pranked into driving all the way to California… disappointment over missing the championship… disappointment over being so rudely kicked out after the first sexual encounter that he actually enjoyed…

…he was crying. For the first time in his adult life ugly sobs rocked Rex’s body _._

 

 _Stop acting so gay!_ _That’s not why you came here!_ His mind screamed—but it only made it worse. Too lost, he didn’t hear the tap against his window at first.

 _Charlie?_ Hope filled Rex’s heart as well as shame at being caught in such a moment of weakness. He looked up.

Not Charlie. The man at his window looked nothing like the handsome wrestler; he looked vicious and bald and covered in tattoos.

“Nice ride!” The man shouted outside his window. “How much do you want for it?”

It was clear that the man wasn’t offering him money in exchange for his baby and that’s all Rex needed to know in order to gun the engine.

Shifting his eyes back to the road he gasped. Three men were blocking his way, leaning against the hood. Another two stood to his right, peering into the passenger’s seat.

“Open up, let’s talk business!” The man shouted and Rex hit the gas not caring what would happen to the men blocking his way.

The GTO launched forward… then died out.

Looking at the dashboard hysterically Rex discovered that he was running on fumes for the last couple of miles. He had forgotten to fill her up in Nevada.    

He yelped as a crowbar smashed his window and on an impulse hit the horn with all his might not letting go until he was forcefully grabbed and pulled out of his car through the broken window.

 _“What did you do that for?!”_ and Rex got kicked in the stomach so forcefully that he doubled over before falling to the gravel road.

The smell of alcohol and sweat was heavy as they surrounded him. They took his wallet and practically ripped his leather jacket off before proceeding to kick him, hitting his back, arms and legs as he curled into a ball, shocked and terrified. He had no doubt they intended to beat him to death and couldn’t think of anything he could have—

_“Whoa!”_

He heard a man shout and there was a loud whoosh of air followed by a metallic hiss. He heard that hiss before…

The men stopped kicking him as once but it took Rex another short while to risk opening his eyes.

Then he saw something rare. Something that no one who paid 300$ for a Twin Cities ticket that day got to see;

A bot vs. six men.

Ambush punched his attacker, the force throwing the bald man over the GTO until he landed by the hood. Two men were picked up at once, wiggling like worms, and thrown over the fence and into the funfair. The other three tried to run but Ambush was faster. He gathered them one by one, then, lifting them high, threw them in a massive industrial dumpster that belonged to the funfair’s mechanics. There was no getting out without help.  

Then the world went quiet.

A hand on his shoulder made him jump.

“…Chicago?”

And to his great shame Rex was crying again, partly because he was hurting all over, but mainly because he was so, so sad.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

The truck was less homey with the Judge taking up half of the space. Charlie had lowered the ramp and Ambush pushed the car in.

All along Rex sat on the man’s bed, crying silently.

“Shirt off,” Charlie commanded as soon as he was done turning his living room into a temporary garage.

“They took my leather jacket…” his trademark red, white and black biking jacket was gone; he’d had it since age eighteen.

“We’ll get you another.” Charlie said and Rex looked up, his big blue eyes filled with hope and wonderment. He finally stopped crying and Charlie thought that he had never seen a man so obviously lost; the younger man was in complete denial of both his sexuality and his age.

Chicago had his hair bleached, his ear pierced, he was wearing a goatee… he even wore some sort of necklace! As well as a dreadful black T shirt with some oriental print that he seemed to cut with scissors, baggy jeans and the said leather biker jacket.

At first Charlie got caught in the stranger’s big blue eyes and chiseled cheeks, those damn full lips. It was crystal clear to him that the younger man was gay.

He’d joked about sex costing more than twenty dollars and Chicago took the pickup line literally and handed him two hundred bucks.

Charlie figured that Rex was drunk and that taking his money wasn’t very fair… and yet he was in no position to turn down two-hundred greenbacks. If he doesn’t figure out something soon, he’d have to sell both Ambush and his truck.

At any rate, he wanted to fuck the beautiful boy… but after the way Chicago was shocked into orgasm lasting less than a minute, he realized that things were more complicated than he originally thought. Charlie understood that the man was a virgin in that sense, and that he was so deep in the closet—he didn’t even realize he was in one.

So yeah he felt guilty, but he had to kick the drunken boy out.

He was still thinking about everything that happened when he heard that deafening horn and just knew that Chicago was in trouble.  

He arrived there in time to see the boy getting kicked so hard he doubled over, and it made the blood boil in his veins. Fetching Ambush was a no brainer—people who believed 1:6 are fair odds deserved being confronted by a bot. He hoped that most of them would end up hospitalized.

…He should probably leave town soon.  

“Come on, take your shirt off.”

Rex finally obliged.

How old was he? His chest was mostly smooth with just a touch of hair along the sternum. His body was wiry and pale. It was kinda sexy and Charlie was reminded of why he’d let Chicago in in the first place. Damn his good looks.

“Lie on your back.”

He did and Charlie began feeling his abdomen for bruises.

He was watching his face the entire time for any signs of discomfort or pain, but what he saw there confused him;

The young man was blushing hotter and hotter, heat creeping down his neck and up his ears.

Looking down Charlie groaned. He didn’t realize that by touching Rex, even therapeutically, he was unintentionally arousing him.   

“I’m nearly done.” He tried reassuring him. Still the boy had to look away, ashamed.

He should have thought of that. It was clear that Chicago was attracted to him, and had followed his heart’s desire for what looked like the first time in his life.  

Charlie couldn’t imagine living for so many years without having meaningful sex… or a meaningful relationship… No wonder Rex still dressed like a teenager. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“So what’s the story? You’re a good looking guy… well, now that you’re out of them clothes. Couldn’t find someone you trust to experiment with?”

“I’m not…” After years of shouting it at Ian, it was suddenly hard to say.

“…gay.” The word sounded little, just like Rex felt.

“Oh.” Charlie simply said. He let go of the kid’s stomach, he felt enough. Chicago was fine. “And hungry?”

“What?”

“We’ve established that you’re not gay,” the man sounded amused, “now how about hungry? I caught this gorgeous trout this morning.” Pride snuck into Charlie’s voice. It wasn’t every day that he caught a four pound fish.

“Um… yeah, sure, I could eat. Thanks. So, do you…" Rex’s eyes fixed on the ceiling. He had to lick his lips in order to find his voice, "You think I’m good looking?”

“Mm.” Charlie pretended to think hard. Rex looked like his entire world depended on the answer.

“I’d probably get rid of these,” and he ran his fingers through Rex’s soft spiky hair, with its bleached tips, “but yeah. I think so.”

Chicago was blushing again. His blue eyes were wild and dark. His tongue darted out to wet his full lips. He looked so turned on that Charlie almost took pity on him.

He could teach him… No matter what Rex said, his lust for Charlie was written all over his face; it was obviously the older man’s call.  

Charlie sighed.

He couldn’t do it.

There was this damn _sadness_ in Rex’s baby blues… like he was the loneliest boy in the world… and Charlie just knew that if he was his first—it wouldn’t be just a fuck. Couldn’t be just a fuck. And if he cared… if he _really_ cared… seeing Rex this sad would break his heart.

“So you’re also a fisherman?” Rex ended the silence, startling him into action.

“Fisherman, wrestler, bot fighter, you name it.” Charlie got up and turned to the kitchen. Due to the eventful evening his grocery bags were left on the table, untouched.

“How about you? What do you do for a living?” He pulled the gorgeous trout out of the freezer.

“I’m a mechanic.” Rex said, making Charlie turn.

“So… like, trucks and stuff?”

“Motorcycles mainly, but yeah. Cars, trucks, scooters… if it got wheels I can fix it!” Now Rex couldn’t help pride from sneaking into his voice. He was a great mechanic.

“Battle bots?” Charlie asked, not too hopeful.

“I read a lot about it. Never really got to see one up close until today, but I think I could manage.”

“Oh… Could you take a look at Ambush’s left thumb?”

“Umm… yeah. Like, really?” Rex sat up so that he could look at the bot.

“It stopped working the other day. I’m right handed so no biggie… but you know how great opposable thumbs are…” Charlie laughed a short, nervous laugh. He would die before admitting that it stopped working six months ago, and that he couldn’t afford to fix it since.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

For the following hour the two men worked in silence.

Every once in a while Rex needed to fetch more tools, and standing by the tool box he watched Charlie cook. The man was great with a knife. He expertly gutted the fish and cut the vegetables smoothly and evenly, stopping only to sip from his glass of red wine. He then neatly arranged the food in a tray. The sight was an OCD person’s dream.

Every once in a while Charlie needed to wash his knife, and from his spot by the sink he watched Rex work. Seeing Chicago work on his bot, focus, attentive and dirty with grease was surprisingly sexy. Doing what he liked brought out the man in him… his very posture seemed to have changed. And that man in him? …Charlie wanted to bend that man over the table and have _him_ for dinner.

 _…and enough with the wine._ Charlie decided.

Then filled his glass again.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

“The fish is delicious! You’re a great cook!”

Charlie smiled. He suspected Rex had the most expressive blue eyes in the whole wide world; he looked genuinely impressed with his cooking.

“You don’t cook?”

“Nah, Karol is the cook in our—” Rex caught himself mid-sentence and looked up from his plate nervously.

“Karol? Is she your girlfriend?” Charlie’s fork stopped in midair. He held his gaze so squarely that Rex couldn’t lie.  

“My stepmom.” He lowered his eyes back to the plate. _Idiot!_

 _“…Ok-ay.”_ Charlie said, not making it any better, but he had too much red wine to pretend he wasn’t shocked.

“How old are you, anyway?” They drank a whole bottle between the two of them, and he figured that this was the perfect time for the truth.

Rex’s voice was barely audible as he said “Thirty one.”

And Charlie nearly choked on his food.

“Oh. Right. A five year difference.” He said, mainly to compose himself and stop the younger man from blushing so hotly. But seriously, thirty one?! The guy acted like he was in his early twenties and dressed like he was fifteen. Thirty one years of being in the closet… was this guy for real?

“I’m saving up money to move out. Thinking of opening my own garage one day.”

“Well, you should, your hands are golden.” He meant that. In the time it took him to make dinner Rex had fixed Ambush’s thumb and replaced a burnt out light in his wrist. And that was just from reading about robot mechanics.

“Err… Thanks. I will… one day.”

Charlie wanted to change the subject. He didn’t mean to step on any toes and he hated seeing Rex this uncomfortable. Earlier while he cooked, Rex had paid him the most pleasant complement and so he asked “Steve Austin, huh?”

“Oh yeah! ‘Stone cold’ is my all-time favorite!”

“And you think that I fight just like him?”

Rex nodded enthusiastically.

“In his Triple Crown Championship?” Charlie knew he was pushing it and laughed at Rex’s expression.

“Man, _Steve Austin_ doesn’t fight like Steve Austin in the Triple Crown Championship!”

“Amen to that.” Charlie laughed. “Think he took something?”

“I hope not. Wrestling was taken seriously back then, as it should... I miss the professional wrestling days. None of that robot shit, just real men that you can relate to.” Then his blue eyes widened “No offence! Ambush is really cool!”

“No, I agree. I miss those days too.” Charlie did miss being in the center of the ring. Now he was shadowboxing in the background while his bot got all of the praise. But human boxers were replaced by robots and former boxers had to pay the rent. Or the collectors in his case. He spent all of his savings buying “Noisy Boy” and by the time he realized it was a scam the man was gone and so were his life savings. He had no choice but to buy Ambush; wrestling was his livelihood. Now he was so deep in debt, so busy avoiding the collectors, so worried all of the time…

He realized that this was one of the few pleasant evenings he had since buying Ambush six months ago. The first time he laughed in a while. He looked up at the young man.

Rex seemed lost in thoughts, too. His beautiful blue eyes narrowed, his lips a tight line. A black smear of grease ran along a sharp cheekbone, another across his forehead.  

 _More wine._ Charlie suddenly decided, but lifting the bottle he realized there was none left.

“I got beer in my car.” Rex was reminded, seeing Charlie’s efforts. He was about to get up but the wrestler laughed and dismissed him.

“I can help myself.”

Rex was reminded of his broken window and grimaced.

He watched Charlie getting up, tall and so amazingly built, and followed the man’s back as he walked to the Judge. He watched him bend and reach for the passenger seat through the window.

Charlie Kenton must have been the most attractive man in the world. The most talented man in the world, too. The guy could wrestle, fish, cook… Rex looked at what was left of their dinner. The man was truly gifted.

He heard a can popping open and looked up to see Charlie staring at him, long and hard, then emptying a can of beer right there by the GTO.

He came back to the table, setting the remaining five packs in front of Rex.

Rex reached for one when he _felt_ , rather than saw, Charlie smiling down at him. _What?_

The man was holding a red box.

“Thought you’d get lucky tonight?”

“No! I got them because… I… err…” _because I wanted a straight basket? Because I was lonely and hopeful? Because I’m an idiot?_

Rex had no idea how to convince the man that he didn’t buy condoms before coming to see him.

“I…”  

Then he couldn’t think at all.

Couldn’t do anything but stare at Charlie who was tearing away the thin nylon cover. The wrestler opened the pack, slowly, deliberately, and pulled out a condom.  

He tossed it over to Rex who caught it instinctively.

“Do you want me to teach you?”

The room became very hot. His mouth became very dry.

 _“I…”_ Rex’s voice betrayed him.

The wrestler grinned and pulled the tight shirt he was wearing over his head and off his built body in a single, well-practiced move. He offered Rex his hand.

Rex’s cock responded so immediately it was pathetic.  He felt weak with desire

“I don’t have any money.” He managed to say, his voice hoarse, his cock throbbing.

Charlie chuckled, the sound sexy as hell, “Come here, Chicago.”

And Rex took the offered hand.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Charlie guided him to a door he hadn’t noticed before by the foot of the bed.

It led to a long, narrow room with a shower by the far end. Charlie left him by the door and headed for the shower in order to turn on and adjust the water.

 _Is this really happening?_ All Rex could do was admire the half-naked man. He had a real life wrestler within reach and his fingers tingled with the need to trace the strong muscles.

Waiting, Rex caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sink. He was covered in grease at least four different places… He sent fingers to a stain on his cheek when Charlie's reflection appeared behind him. The wrestler met Rex's gaze in the mirror and held it. Smiling a seductive little smile, he hooked fingers into Rex's jeans and pulled him back towards him, until his hard cock was pressed against Rex's ass. He then held him very still.

All Rex could do was pant. Even through several layers of fabric it was easy to tell Charlie was massive, and it excited the young man as much as it scared him.

Charlie pressed suggestively harder against him, making his intentions clear, and Rex's cock twitched in anticipation.

The wrestler let go of his jeans and tugged at Rex's shirt, wanting it off. Before the young man knew it the mirror reflected the two of them half naked, their gazes still locked.

Feeling bolder Rex pressed his back to the other man's chest. Strong arms closed around his torso.

“That’s it,” Charlie encouraged and pressed a kiss to Rex’s neck, his thin lips surprisingly soft, the view in the mirror surprisingly erotic. He began sucking on the spot and Rex had to close his eyes, the sudden, hot wetness too overwhelming.

When he opened his eyes again the mirror was fogged up with steam and he couldn't see a damn thing.

Painfully aroused he turned in Charlie's arms and frantically sought the other man's lips.

Charlie caught his face and held him still, his hazel eyes wild and full of mischief. But he didn't kiss him, just held him there.

 _"Please?!"_ Rex begged.

"I thought you said you didn't want to?"

"What? No!"

"Yeah. I specifically remember you said _don't do that thing_. That you don't like _that thing_."

"No, I do. I do."

"You do?" Charlie challenged while sending hands to Rex's belt.

Rex nodded vigorously allowing Charlie to unbutton and unzip him, his hard cock bouncing free. Charlie made a quick job of getting undressed, and he was even bigger and thicker than Rex gathered. Bigger than he thought he could take…

"I—"

It was just then that Charlie had finally crushed their mouths together, and moaning with relief Rex forgot what he was about to say.  

The kiss was messy and tasted of wine and beer. Instead of soft breasts built muscles pressed against his chest. More muscles along the back… the scent of cologne and sweat… he pressed his cock to Charlie's and thought he would die of pleasure, right there and then, sucking on Charlie's tongue and touching his cock.

He began moving against him, rubbing their cocks together, building up pace until he was humping frantically… he was so very close…  

But Charlie stopped him with two big hands on his slim waist.

He reached for the condom Rex left by the sink.

"You wanted me to teach you?"

Dumb with desire Rex nodded, and Charlie tore the small package with his teeth.

He pulled out the lubricated condom and handed it to Rex, then took firm hold of the base of his massive cock and waited.

Understanding dawned and Rex sent shaky hands to Charlie's cock. He'd done it twice before, but never to another man. He was worried he'd get it wrong, the last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself in front of Charlie.

But it worked… he began to gently unroll the condom along Charlie's hot, thick cock, surprised by how much he enjoyed the intimate act. The heavy cock twitched and swelled under his caressing fingers and Rex teasingly ran the pads of his fingers down the man's cock and over his balls, weighting them, rolling them in his palm, aroused and fascinated.

Charlie drew in a sharp breath "Don't be a cock tease,"

And they were kissing again, messily, moving clumsily toward the shower, never letting go of each other's lips, until they were standing under the hot water spray.  

Cupping Rex’s chiseled cheeks Charlie broke the kiss and for a moment just held Rex's gaze. Then, decisive, he planted one last kiss on the full lips and guided him around until he faced the wall.

 _I'm drunk._ Rex told himself. _I'm gonna ride this guy's cock and that's fine cause I'm drunk—it doesn't mean a thing._

Rex heard a bottle uncap and turned his head. He couldn't see much but he didn't need to, there was no mistaking the thick, slippery conditioner that coated Charlie's hands as he cupped his buttocks, squeezing and massaging, parting and opening him.

"What if you're too big?" Rex had to voice his one, last concern in spite of the fear the man might stop.

"No such thing," Charlie's voice was thick with desire—Rex's words drove him wild. "You're gonna take it and you're gonna love it. You're gonna ride my cock so good."

Rex moaned and Charlie guided him forward, until the younger man was braced against the wall.

He was so turned on by that point that he accepted the first invading finger with a shudder of relief. Anything, _everything_ as long he would come…

But he was proven wrong.

The older man pressed a second finger into him and it felt thick, too thick. Appalled, Rex pushed off the wall, unintentionally backing himself onto the invading fingers.

Charlie now had two fingers knuckle deep in his ass and shock clamped Rex’s throat. The thick conditioner made the invading fingers so slippery that Charlie could begin rhythmically scissoring them no matter how hard Rex clenched his muscles.

 _“Charlie… I can’t… I can’t_ …”

It didn’t hurt at all, but the panic that was building in his chest became too much. He was about to call it quits when Charlie reached around and began stroking his cock, his big hand slippery with the improvised lube.

_“… Oh… God… Oh… Yeah…”_

Rex couldn’t find his voice between pants. He was torn between begging the man to release him and spreading his legs wider for him.

“Come here,” Charlie guided Rex closer, until his back was pressed to the wrestler’s broad chest and his head lolled back against a strong shoulder. Defeated, Rex closed his eyes and let the hot water spray against his shoulders and face while Charlie kept fingering him, deep and slippery and knowing. Every once in a while Charlie would still his fingers and Rex would clench hard, his entire body rigid, until the rhythm was renewed.

No longer panicked, Rex turned his head which was still resting on wrestler’s shoulder and sought his mouth. Charlie met his lips and kissed him hard. He sucked Charlie’s tongue moaning in sharp pleasure, when the damn fingers stopped moving again. No matter how hard Rex clenched around the invasion Charlie wouldn’t move. Frustrated Rex tore his mouth away and began moving against Charlie, awkwardly at first, until he found a way and rhythm to fuck himself with Charlie’s fingers.

“Atta boy,” Charlie kissed a bare shoulder while slowly pulling out. He shifted the shower head so that the cascade wouldn’t wash off the conditioner while he covered his cock with lube.

Rex closed his eyes. _This doesn't mean a damn thing, everyone experiments with a guy at some point… besides, I'm drunk._

With a muscular thigh between Rex’s coltish legs, Charlie forced the younger man to spread wide and brace himself against the wall.

Before Rex knew it Charlie was pushing against him, the slippery head of his heavy cock seeking, pressing once, twice… so close to his—

_OhGod_

Finding what he was looking for, Charlie didn’t give Rex time to reconsider. He sank in like nothing could be more natural, then began moving, in and out, steadily ramming his massive cock into Rex's tight ass.

_Oh, God… oh…God_

"You alright?" Charlie asked after claiming the boy with a final, unrelenting thrust.

" _Yeah,"_ Rex replied breathlessly, so aroused he could die. Charlie was too thick, too big, it was all happening too fast… and yet he was so close to coming that he had to keep perfectly still. He wanted it to last forever.

"You like that?" Charlie asked, slowly moving his hips.

"Wait…" Rex panted, "I'm so close…"

"Oh?" Charlie chuckled, and even that pushed Rex dangerously close to the edge.

 _"Don't move!"_ Rex begged.

"Okay Chicago." Charlie kissed the back of his head soothingly and held very, very still. It wasn't easy. Rex was so damn tight and his entire body tingled with the need to move.

When he couldn't stand it anymore he strengthened his hold on the boy's waist and began thrusting. He had to close his eyes, Chicago felt so good on his dick.  

"Charlie… I'm so… close…"

And wanting to feel it, the wrestler rasped _"—then come."_

He pinched one pale nipple and fisted Rex's cock, and Rex was undone.

He came with a cry, spilling on Charlie's hand and involuntary squeezing Charlie's cock over and over, until the older man had to shove Rex against the wall and fuck him, desperate and frantic, loving the fleshy sounds as he pounded Rex’s ass faster and faster—

—he squeezed the pale buttocks, parting them so that Rex could take it deeper—it drove him out of his mind with pleasure, until with a final thrust he slammed Rex hard against the wall and held him there while he emptied himself, biting his shoulder, wanting Chicago so damn much even while coming inside him.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

 _Fuck_ Charlie panted, pressing his forehead to Chicago’s back, still buried deep in his ass, his strong arms closing around the slim waist like vines, holding the boy in place.

…not that he seemed to have minded. Rex, too, was struggling to catch his breath.

This was by far the best sex he ever had. He barely managed to last five minutes, Chicago was too damn tight… too damn pretty… so trusting…

“…Rex?” the name rolled unfamiliarly on his tongue, but he liked it. Short and sweet… eccentric, like its owner.

“—yeah?”

He needed to let go and get rid of the condom… but he had to ask while the boy was still at his mercy;

“For how long have you wanted this?”

For a moment only their despaired pants echoed in the small, steamy space.

“…for forever.” Rex finally admitted, no longer able to lie to himself—not with Charlie inside him, all around him… and if he wasn’t so out of breath he would have cried in relief.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Charlie had a three-quarter bed, resulting in the two of them having to snuggle close. In spite of the military manner in which it was made, the bed linen were soft fleece, their clean scent unfamiliar and ever so pleasant… Rex was in heaven.

Charlie fell asleep the minute his head hit the pillow, but Rex couldn’t sleep. Didn’t want to sleep—his last hours with Charlie were just too precious.

The wrestler had offered to drop him off at a gas station on his way out of town, and Rex thought that he was beginning to understand the meaning of heartache.

He never got it before, why people got so hung up on someone they allowed it to interfere with their lives, but he thought he got it now.  

He ran his hand over Charlie’s chest, trying to memorize the texture of his body hair, the rhythm of his beating heart… and before he knew it a first tear ran down his cheek.

Something inside of him broke earlier in his car… like the walls he built throughout the years tumbled down, and he feared that the tears would never stop flowing. But maybe it was bound to happen at some point?

He led the majority of his adult life following one simple rule; act straight.

He had to… life made him this way.

He remembered the day the teasing started—the first time he got beaten for being ‘gay’. It was on his first day of elementary school. His dad was so proud, the picture of him at age seven in a t-shirt and shorts holding a tiny bag was posted on the fridge to that day.

But Rex couldn’t look at it. The sight of him smiling excitedly added insult to the injury. Those damn shorts… all of the other kids were in jeans. The only ones in shorts were the girls.

They waited for him by the drinking fountain. Smashed his face against the facet as he bent down to drink and pulled his pants down. _‘Faggot! Faggot! Faggot!’_

He didn’t even know what the word meant.

He told his dad that he fell playing soccer. He knew that his old man was still sad because of mom and Rex didn’t want him to think that he wasn’t doing a good enough job as a single parent.  

So he suffered quietly, taking comfort in wrestling and action movies, until the 7th grade. That was when things finally took a turn for the better. Something happened to him in the summer break before junior high. His voice changed, he grew tall and wide, and most important—they mixed up the classes.

Reinventing himself was easy enough; he got to observe bullies up close for years.

He just had to pick on the skinniest, shyest boy in class before he himself got labeled the faggot again. It worked. Rex bleached his hair, pierced his ear, laughed at other kids for being gay or ugly or fat, and never shed another tear for twenty-something years.

Twenty something years during which he hadn't dared to stop and think of why he was feeling so lonely and sad.

But now the damn tears wouldn’t stop, and feeling _physical_ pain in his chest Rex hugged the sleeping man, burying his wet face against the massive rib cage.

“…Chicago?” Charlie asked sleepily, and Rex panicked; he didn’t mean to wake the other man.

But all Charlie did was to roll onto his side and wordlessly return the hug.

...and all of Rex’s worries seemed to have melted away.

He wanted to savor the moment, memorize the feel of the strong arms that held him, the smell of the fresh linen and the soap on Charlie’s skin, but he was losing the battle against sleep… his eyes were burning… so heavy… he was up for nearly 24 hours…

He nestled against Charlie feeling like the luckiest man alive to be sharing his bed, and that was the last thing he could remember when sleep finally took him.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

He woke up all alone, feeling confused, his heart beating fast.

What happened?

Another knock on the door made Rex realize why he woke… but the truck wasn’t his, he couldn’t answer the door. Where the hell was Charlie?

“…Rex?” a muffled voice called.

 _What the eff?!_ Rex got up and slipped into a pair of loose pants he found on the floor that were way too big, “Lance?!”

He must be delusional, but he was certain that he recognized the voice.

“Yeah, let me in!”

And Rex’s mouth went dry; something horrible must have happened for Lance to track him down! He should have returned his dad’s call!

He searched the panel by the door and hit the button displaying an ‘up’ arrow.

The truck’s door began rolling up.

“What happened?!” he jumped out of the truck, holding the sweatpants in place.

But Lance was smiling his usual, calm smile.

Rex never felt comfortable around Ian’s best friend. He told himself that it was because the dude looked like a lesbian teenager, but he always suspected it wasn’t just that.

Lance was too comfortable in his own skin, like he knew something that the rest of the world didn’t and Rex didn’t like it. Sometimes he felt like the rich brat saw right through him with his stupid black-rimmed glasses.

“You got laid.” Lance stated as if reading his mind.

“Fuck you!” Rex shot back, “What do you want?!”

“Hey dude! Back off! I’m happy for you, why are you so—” Then Lance’s eyes became very wide.

“Oh my god!” he began laughing, unintentionally opening old wounds. He froze when he saw Rex’s face burning with humiliation.

“No, no!” Lance held up both his hands, “I’m not laughing at you!”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“No Rex wait, please! I mean it. I’m just happy you finally did it.”

Rex froze and gave Lance a long, doubtful look.

“I mean it. I do. I was hoping you’d go for it. Get rid of that damn chip on your shoulder.”

“What chip?” Rex demanded. His patience was wearing thin.

“Oh, I dunno. Say Ian?”

“What about Ian?”

“You tell me.”

“Who cares about Ian right now?!” Rex was truly angry by that point, but then it hit him.

He didn’t care... at all. Ian could be gay, straight, bi… he could have a fucking sex change done for all Rex cared, he’s still be his baby brother. Or sister… he nearly smiled but then cringed at Lance’s reproaching gaze. _Yeah. Okay._

“…so? Is he hot?”

“Lance!” Panicked filled Rex’s eyes, the wheels in his head spinning fast, “You can’t tell anyone!”

“I’m not gonna tell your family, geez Rex. I’d never out someone like that and you know it.”

Yeah. Rex knew it. It was easy to tell Lance was wise beyond his years, which was another reason Rex never felt all that comfy around him.

“So? Is he?” Lance wouldn’t give up, but suddenly his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, _“Him?!”_

And Rex turned in time to see Charlie arriving to where they stood. He was holding a white plastic bag and in it a familiar red, white and black garment…

“What’s this?” Rex asked, unable to conceal his happiness. _Could it be?_

“This? Just the worst spent two-hundred bucks in the history of man.” Charlie grumbled, then added “Got your wallet too, nothing in it but your driving license, you should cancel all of your credit cards. Who’s he?” he gestured with his head towards Lance.

“A friend from Chicago.”

“Hey, I’m Lance.”

“Charlie,” the wrestler shook the offered hand. “Sorry, but I’m in a bit of a hurry,” he gestured towards his truck.

“Go for it.” Lance’s confidence never seized to amaze Rex.

“Here,” Charlie handed Rex the bag, freeing his hands so that he could climb the ladder. “We leave in twenty.”

“Okay. Thank you!” _His Jacket!_

“Don’t mention it.”

Charlie climbed into the truck. He was wearing a pair of tight light blue jeans and a black vest, his muscles glistening in the early morning sun. Both men couldn’t help but stare at his backside as he climbed.

“Damn…” Lance finally said, “…who wouldn’t turn gay for that? You’re dating a Greek god.”

“We’re not dating.” Saying the words out loud twisted the knife. “The Judge needs gas, he’s dropping me off at the nearest gas station.”

“What? No, Rex. Did you ask him to stay?”

“I can’t stay. My car is taking up half of his truck… and he’s deep in debt, he can’t afford a freeloader.”

“Freeloader? No, man. I’m not talking about a vacation. He lives in a truck, he owns a battle bot… you could be his mechanic…”

“I don’t—”

“You could be his boyfriend.” Lance smiled knowingly.

“Right.” Rex’s face twisted in pain. “Have you seen the guy? He’s not gonna want me as his…” He couldn’t even say it. He’d feel like a fool for even considering it.

“Rex? You can be a real douche but you’re Ian’s older brother and I love ya like family. I want you to be happy, I do… but this thing?” he tapped Rex’s biker jacket, “I wouldn’t pay a cent for it even if your life depended on this ugly jacket. Do you catch my drift?”

Rex shook his head ‘no’ and Lance signed.

“Okay, look. Sex on legs here, who you just told me is in deep debt, spent two-hundred dollars on this fugly jacket—just to make you happy.”

“…so?”

“So he cares about you. No one pampers a one night stand like that before dropping him off. Trust me on this one.”

“I dunno…” Technically it was Rex’s money. Charlie told him that he was only joking about charging him for sex, and had offered to return his money. Too proud Rex refused, but still… his money. Wasn’t it?   

“You’re thinking too much.” Lance read his mind for the second time that day. “Here’s what you should be thinking about: do you want to go back to your parents’ house and work in that old garage to save money for God knows what? Or do you want to travel the States with this gorgeous man, going from one robot battle to the next, and having mind blowing sex several times a day?”

“I don’t know about several times a day…” Rex stammered, blushing hotly.

“I’ve seen him, I do. Mark my words; first thing in the morning, last thing at night, and a couple of random ones throughout the day. Maybe before dinner, bent over that table—”

“Lance! Keep it down!”

“He can’t hear us.” Lance laughed at Rex’s nervousness, “Now go talk to him.”

“I can’t. What about the Judge?”

“I’ll drive her home for you. What? We already returned it once.”

“Don’t remind me,“ Rex warned. He looked at the handsome man who was unfolding a road map of California by the table. “He’s gonna turn me down.”

“Then I’ll buy you ice-cream on the way home. Now go.” Lance practically shoved him.

Rex’s hands were sweaty as he climbed the short ladder. There was nothing that he wanted more than to leave his parents’ house and move in here with Charlie; his truck and his lifestyle were the essence of freedom.

And the man himself… He couldn’t deny that he had feelings for Charlie… he didn’t want to.

Rex wanted to share his bed every night, to cook together, to have the freedom to touch him… make love to him… if the man would turn him down Rex’s heart would break.

“…hey,” he said and Charlie looked up from the map.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Lance sat on a dead log and waited, lost in thought.

He never spoke to Ian about it, but he had no doubt that Rex was gay from the moment he met him. His juvenile behavior didn’t conceal the pain and loneliness. His extreme homophobia only served as a proof Lance was right.

It was easy to tell that he was taking his frustration out on Ian, probably assuming that Ian didn’t have a girlfriend for the same reason Rex didn’t.

Most of the time Lance only felt sorry for him.

But after he spoiled Ian and Felicia’s first time together, Lance didn’t care about Rex’s sad story. He wanted revenge.

Earlier that week when Ian was cleaning up before closing, he found the old flyer under the cashier. It was a no brainer. They didn’t believe Rex would make it as far as California, he was bound to see an actual ad for the 2010 championship at some point, or notice the expiration date… but troubled and preoccupied Rex didn’t and what do you know?

The carny at the cashier pointed him to ‘Charles Kenton’s truck’ and skeptical Lance knocked on the back door only to find Rex wearing someone else’s pants, a love bite on his neck, another on his shoulder… but what mainly struck him was the calmness in his eyes. They were red, like he’d been crying, but at peace. For the first time since he met him, Rex Lafferty seemed comfortable in his own skin.

Tired of the long wait he got up and approached the truck. The GTO was blocking most of his view, but if he moved to the right… _oh. Right._

The sight that greeted him made him momentarily freeze.

Charlie was still sitting by the table, and so was Rex… The younger man sat in the wrestler’s lap. The built arms circled Rex’s body, disappearing under his shirt where the man was caressing Rex’s back. The two men were French kissing, but it wasn’t foreplay. It was too slow, too intimate. It was the kind of kiss two people shared when they were deeply in love. Knowing it couldn’t possibly be the case, Lance wondered what caused the two men to have such strong feelings for one another after spending just one night together.

 _Must have been one hell of a night_ , he smiled in spite of himself.

He smile grew wider as he eyed the Judge.

_Mary, here I come._

And he turned his back on the admittedly erotic sight, giving the new lovers some privacy.

 

 _“Now I see clearly_  
_It's you I'm looking for_  
_All of my days_  
_Soon I'll smile_  
_I know I'll feel this loneliness no more_  
_All of my days_  
_For I look around me_  
_And it seems you found me_  
_And it's coming into sight_  
_And even breathing feels all right_  
_As the days keep turning into night”_

The End

 

 


End file.
